When it rains it pours
by ClairandYona
Summary: Tony clutched the flip-phone in his hand. It creaked under the pressure, and for a crazy split second he contemplated crushing it. It's not like the phone itself mattered, other than another reminder of Steve's complete lack of knowledge concerning anything technological- who the hell has used a flip-phone in the last decade. (Can I list Angst twice?)
Disclaimer: If you think I have any ownership over this, boy do I have some news for you...

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Tony clutched the flip-phone in his hand. It creaked under the pressure, and for a crazy split second he contemplated crushing it. It's not like the phone itself mattered, other than another reminder of Steve's complete lack of knowledge concerning anything technological- who the hell has used a flip-phone in the last decade. The phone itself was a cheap burner, bought for under fifty bucks at the local Walmart and was blank except for one saved contact.

The thought of it sort of made him angry. He was Tony Stark for God's sake! What did they think he would do when given a piece of technology? They had given him a number, that was all he had ever needed before. Literally the second thing he had done after finding the phone was have F.R.I.D.A.Y. run the number through every international phone company's database, and when that had come up empty, through every privately owned phone line.

Of course it was run through one of T'Challa's private channels. One he couldn't hack thanks to the _wonders_ of Wakanda's extremely advanced technology. He felt himself scoff at that thought. Yeah right, if T'Challa thought his network was safe due to their technology not being based on 'binary electronics', he had another thing coming.

It only took three weeks to crack, which was an exorbitantly long time by Tony's standards; only broken up between F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s hassling and Rhodey's physical therapy sessions, but ultimately allowed him to locate the other phone. An expensive Wakandan brand, no doubt given by T'Challa to the Captain, that had yet to send or receive another call or text. So another burner, which left him with little additional information outside actually confirming T'Challa's role as benefactor to the rest of the vigilante Avengers.

He couldn't help but wonder if he had also just been an extra wallet to dip into when they had been running a little dry- it wouldn't have been the first time it had happened- but he knew the second the thought drifted across his mind that wasn't true, Steve had always been too earnest for that to be the case. It didn't help the sting of abandonment that never seemed to be too far from the forefront of his thoughts no matter how much he drank.

Tony leaned back into his chair, the phone still clutched in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other. He wondered what Steve would do if he called. What constituted as trouble anyway; his ability to drink himself into an artificial liver? The thought of actually using the phone made him too mad to concentrate. It's not like any problems he might face wouldn't reach them through the media even before he would have the opportunity to call. If he ever actually needed any of their help, the time required to contact them and then wait for them to travel half way around the world wouldn't leave him with much blood left on the inside of his body- and he knew he would never call unless he was already half dead.

It wasn't as if they actually cared, he thought bitterly. A surge of anger rose at the thought, and he found himself pegging the phone across the room where it smashed against the wall, the phone breaking cleanly into two pieces. He groaned, his empty hand clutching at his forehead, even from this distance he could tell it was fucked. He wasn't drunk enough to justify this, he thought with acute sobriety. He looked guiltily at the remnants of the phone from across the room before downing the rest of the bottle, then threw that across the room as well -just for good measure. He felt heat rise to his cheeks as the whiskey pooled in his stomach, he knew if he stood up now he would probably fall over.

Pepper was gone, J.A.R.V.I.S. was dead, the Avengers had abandoned him, he couldn't look Rhodey in the eye anymore and he was still suffering from PTSD and... And he needed a lot more alcohol to follow this train of thought.

"Dummy, more Scotch!" He yelled, letting his head drop backwards to stare upwards at the ceiling.

" _In your current physical state_ -" Tony had already heard enough of F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s nagging by the time he had fished his phone out of his pocket and pressed pause. The function had been one of the new tools he had installed after implementing F.R.I.D.A.Y., he had already experienced enough sass from his AI to last a lifetime. His ego needed all the boosting it could get after that 'Stank' thing. Besides, he seriously needed some time to wallow in alcoholic depression. It was the only thing he could call familiar these days.

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A/N: Civil war was the worst. I don't think I've ever been more unsatisfied by a marvel movie since, well, probably only since AoU. The entire moral dilemma over whether or not a band of superheros should be monitored by the government? How is that even a question. People have enough trouble with the police, let alone an unsupervised super-power. Also, because so far there has been no response to how far in the dumps Tony is right now. -Yona


End file.
